by PT Winters
"Just the tip." She told him.
"Mmmm?" he asked, ready to use the tip of his cock anyway she wanted.
"Just use the tip of your tongue." She told him, which made far more sense.
Jane, it seemed, was determined to make him as good at this, as she was a fellatio.
Michael resumed licking once more, this time only using the tip of his tongue. He gently moved it up and down, and in circles. She ran her fingers through his hair as his tongue worked its way around her. She pulled at it and gasped when he managed to hit a particularly good spot, teaching him what she liked.
Soon he became playful with her, using his tongue to spell her name and his, paying close attention to which movements caused which reactions. Eventually he decided to try his luck with a finger, sticking inside her while he continued to lick. She moaned, and not quietly, so he tried a second finger, and her response was even louder.
"Fuck." She told him, cursing for the first time in front of him.
He continued to lick as his fingers worked in and out of her tight, wet hole. He curled his fingers up while inside her and she gasped.
"Don't stop." She ordered him. He repeated the motion and she squealed, grabbing his head and holding him against her. He continued to lick while pumping his curled his fingers in and out of her, as she moaned, louder and louder.
He licked and pumped, licked and pumped and her orgasm built. Her body was riding a wave, about to crest. She wanted it to last forever and at the same time yearned for the release of a climax. If Michael felt half this good when she sucked his cock she could finally understand why he was so insistent with her.
He continued to lick and eventually she crested the wave, screaming "Oh god. You're such a good husband!" as she came, his face still buried in her pussy.
When Michael was finally able to come up for air, she handed him a handkerchief that she had put on the bedside table, which he used to wipe his face.
"How was that?" he asked innocently.
"That was an excellent start." she assured him '"But why don't we give it another go?"
"Mind you..." She rose and walked to the window, opening it. "...this time, lets see if we can get the Sam and Annie to hear us."
She lay back down on the bed and as her husband started to go down on her again, she smiled.
She had a husband she loved very much, practically everything she could ask for, and finally she was very, very happy.
Wifely Duties 2:Andrea Gets Spanked
Jane calls Andrea
"You have to what?!" Andrea all but yelled into the phone. On the other end was her cousin Jane, who was calling to ask for some advice.
Jane had gotten married about two years ago to Andrea's ten weeks, so it seemed like an odd reversal to be giving marriage advice to someone with more experience.
"Once or twice I week I..." Jane was struggling to say the specific words she had been alluding to, moments earlier. "...I perform fellatio on Michael."
"Because you think it is your duty?" Andrea pressed.
"I was surprised as anyone. I mean, no one actually spelled out what wifely duties were, so I had just assumed it was cooking and cleaning." Jane explained. "But, trust me on this, you need to take care of your man."
"And you enjoy doing this?" Andrea asked, confused. She had been a virgin on her wedding night, and actually quite nervous about sex, but Greg had been gentle and loving with her, which made her comfortable enough to try. Her nervousness turned to eagerness within fifteen minutes when she had her first ever orgasm at his hand. After that, she was hooked and the pair had fucked their entire honeymoon away. She had even gone down on him twice, while they had both been drunk from the hotel bar. Greg had seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, but he had seemed to enjoy all the various positions they had tried since then, so she hadn't done it again.
Jane answered the question about liking fellatio. "Well, not exactly, but I have to say that I've... I've gotten quite good at it." She admitted. "And ever since I started, Michael's been the perfect husband."
"And does he return the favour?" Andrea asked.
"How do you mean?"
"I mean, does he use his mouth on you?" Andrea asked point blank.
"Why...I...I never even considered that." Jane confessed.
The conversation continued for several more minutes, with Andrea asking loads of questions, until finally Jane said she had to go get Michael's dinner ready. They said their goodbyes and hung up, leaving Andrea to contemplate things a bit more. In fact, She couldn't stop thinking about it while she did some ironing.
Andrea and Greg were still very much in their honeymoon phase; happy, in love and going at it regularly. But if her role as wife included fellatio and she hadn't been doing that for him, she was worried that she had already failed as a wife.
Perhaps the frequent sex had been enough for Greg up till then, she thought. Yes, Greg was a take-charge kind of a guy; he would have spoken up if there was an issue.
Surely.
Maybe.
"Damn it!" She said out loud, upset at not knowing.
Suddenly the smell of burning filled the room. Lost in her thoughts, she had left the iron on one of Greg's shirts, and it had burnt it's shape onto it, ruining it. She held it up, contemplating what to do when she heard the front door open.
"Honey, I'm home." Greg announced as he walked in.
"In the laundry room." His loving wife responded, still holding up the shirt, examining it.
"What time did you...oh." Greg said as he entered and saw the shirt.
"Sorry dear. Got a little distracted again." She laughed it off.
"Andrea." He said seriously. "I think we need to talk."
"Honey, it's just a shirt, I'll pick you up another one at Woolworth tomorrow." She told him, unconcerned.
"That's the thing dear. Today it was just a shirt, last week it was just the potatoes you burned, the week before it was the wrong ingredients you bought for that casserole." He told her calmly. "I work very hard, and we're not saving as much as we should be because you keep getting distracted and costing us money."
"Oh Greg, you're making too big a deal out of this." She tried to dismiss him and exit the laundry room. He blocked the door.
"No, I'm not. In isolation these are not big deals, but grouped together... Andrea, it's disrespectful to be so careless all the time." He lectured her. "You're piddling our money away."
"Okay, I'll try to pay more attention from now on." She told him.
"You said that last time. I'm afraid it's time for some more serious measures." He told her.
Serious measures? Whatever is he talking about, she wondered.
"Honey?" She asked, following him as he headed to the living room, clearly upset.
"You need to start feeling the consequences of your actions." He told her, as he sat down, and patted his knees. "You need to be spanked."
"What?!" She was horrified. To suggest she be spanked like a child was demeaning. So she had cost them a few extra dollars? It wasn't that big a deal. It certainly didn't warrant a spanking.
"Get over my knee right now Andrea." He ordered her. Before she knew what was going on she was laying across his knees, her rump up in the air and his hand resting on it.
"I've given you ample chances, you've brought this on yourself." He informed her.
"I don't understand what the big...ouch!" She cried as he swatted her behind for the first time. "Greg, that hurt."
Greg suppressed a laugh. "Of course it hurt, you're being punished." He told her.
"Honey, you're over re.. Owww." She cried as he swatted her again.
"Okay, you made your point." She told him.
He shook his head in disbelief, she wasn't getting it yet. "Dear, I've just begun to make my point." With that he swatted her a third time, his hand landing dead centre on her behind.
"Owww!" She cried. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." She told him, clearly trying to end the spanking.
"I'm not sure
I believe you." He confessed, and spanked her again.
"Greg, please, stop." She pleaded.
"You didn't listen to me. Why should I listen to you?" He asked.
"Umm." She could not come up with a response because she knew she had ignored his earlier requests to be more careful.
He repeated the question, punctuating each word with a swat.
"Why." Spank
"Should." Spank
"I." Spank
"Stop?" SPANK
The last swat, harder than any previous one, caused her to cry out in pain. "Oowww!"
"Let's see where we are at, shall we?" Greg asked, and he began to lift her skirt over her bottom.
"Greg Sinclair, you stop that right now." She tried to order him.
He ignored her completely, flipping her skirt over and onto her back, revealing her white panty covered bum.
"Barely even pink." He told her. "Well, we'll have that fixed in a few moments."
Greg began spanking her quickly, light swats, alternating between her left and right cheeks. He wasn't as forceful as he had been moments earlier, but the cumulative effect of the dozen or so swats to each buttock was a stinging pain that continued for several seconds after he had stopped.
"Are you going to be a good girl from now on?" He asked.
"Yes, yes. I promise to pay more attention." She told him.
"Oh, I don't doubt that. I meant are you going to be a good girl for the rest of your punishment?" He clarified.
The rest?! She thought. It isn't over yet? She started to panic.
"How, how much more is there going to be?" She asked, tentatively.
"Just until I feel you've honestly learned your lesson." He told her vaguely.
"I've learned my lesson." She tried to convince him.
He spanked her hard again.
Spank.
"That quickly? Either you're lying to me now..."
Spank.
"...or you knew what you were doing was wrong and just didn't care."
Spank.
"I can't say I'm impressed with either option."
Spank.
"Greg, that hurts." She pleaded.
"Yes, I imagine it would." He told her.
Spank.
"Hopefully you'll remember this next time you get distracted."
Spank.
The pain was building, so she swung her arm back, instinctively trying to protect her reddening backside.
"Oh no you don't." He told, grabbing her arm and holding it behind her back.
Spank, spank, spank.
"Greg. Please. I didn't mean to." She was holding back tears. "I don't even realize I'm being distracted when it happens."
Greg released her hand, and caressed her bottom, considering what she was saying. His gentle stroking felt soothing through the thin cloth of her panties.
"Finally, something I believe." He told her, still rubbing her cheeks.
"It won't happen again." She promised.
Spank.
"That, I'm not so sure about." He told her.
"Please, how can I show you? How can I prove it?" She begged him.
"Count out the next batch and tell me you're sorry." He ordered her.
Spank
"One." She said quietly.
"One what?" He asked, loudly
"One, I'm sorry." She said louder.
"Better. Now start again."
Spank
"One, I'm sorry." She told him, biting her lower lip to hold in a yelp.
Spank
"Two, I'm sorry" she said as her eyes watered.
Spank
"Owwww. Three, I'm sorry." She said quickly, but kicked her legs up involuntarily.
"Keep you legs down, or we'll start again." He told her.
Spank
"Greg. It hurts so much!" She begged.
"Okay, I guess we're starting over then huh?" He asked rhetorically.
"No! I'm sorry! Four! I'm so, so sorry." She pleaded
"Too little to late, dear. This is exactly the issue. You know what you need to do but you just don't stay focused." Greg told her.
He lifted his hand, and brought it down hard.
Spank.
She wanted to cry so badly.
"One, I'm sorry." She told him holding back tears.
Spank.
"Two, I'm sorry." She repeated as the water built up in her eyes.
Spank.
"Th-three." She managed as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm s-sorry."
Spank
"Fa-fa-four. I'm, sorry." She managed.
Spank
"Owwww. Five, I'm sorry." She said, gritting her teeth to hold in the emotions. Greg began to caress her bottom.
"That's a good girl." He told her. "You made it all the way through."
She enjoyed his gentle, soothing touch.
"I just wish you could stay this focused." He told her.
"I'll...I'll try." She told him, as she regained her composure.
He began to to pull her panties down her thighs.
"Greg, no! Please, don't." She begged him.
"I just need to check where we are at." He told her.
Her cheeks were very pink from the spanking.
"Not bad, but I think a red bottom is called for right now." He told her.
Andrea's eye widen in shock, she couldn't believe this was happening to her. She shifted, turning her head awkwardly, attempting to look at him even as she continued to lay across his lap. Her protest was cut off has his hand went from rubbing her bottom to gently passing over her cunnie. She moaned involuntarily at the wonderful sensation.
"You can be such a good girl." Greg told her, "I don't understand why you are such a bad one sometimes."
With that he began lightly, but rapidly spanking her again. Left cheek, then right, then left, again and again. The sting was building and she tried again to protest when she suddenly felt something poking her. Greg had an erection! She was shocked to realize he was enjoying this sexually. She wasn't able to consider this any further however, as she was snapped back to reality by the stinging on her backside.
"Please, please." She begged him.
"Please stop?" He said. His hand pausing, just above her reddening cheeks. "Or please more?" He resumed his quick, light spanks.
"Oh, oh, please stop." She said, her backside burning.
Greg halted the spanking, but reached between her legs, sliding a finger into her pussy.
"Ohh!" She cooed in pleasure. She hadn't realized how wet she had become. Apparently Greg wasn't the only one enjoying this.
"Please, more!" She whispered. Greg removed his finger and spanked her hard.
"Ow!" She cried. "No, not that."
"But you just asked me to continue." He said. Slapping her ass again.
Spank.
"No. Stop. No more spanking." She told him.
"Ah, I see. But I'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet." He told her. "You deserve a reward for being a good girl..." He rubbed her clit with his finger, causing her to moan.
"...but you still need to be punished for being a bad one."
Spank!
"YOU." Spank!
"NEED." Spank!
"TO." Spank!
"FOCUS." Spank!
"MORE." Spank!
She whimpered at the rapid onslaught of spanks, unable to hold back the tears any longer.
"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry." She told him through the tears. "I will be more careful from now on."
Greg stopped his spanking, simply rubbing her ass softly as she cried from the combination of the pain and the realization of how she had been acting. When the crying subsided, he asked,
"What was so distracting that you ruined one of my shirts."
When she didn't respond right away, he gave her a light slap on the ass. At this point it, her behind was bright red and burning. Even a light slap stung something fierce. He could feel the heat coming off of her cheeks.
